wasp

the wasp wears your mask,
your face –
emotionless,
beautiful danger he imitates,
obedient traveler across deliberate seas
nourished by a psychic moon –
darling, your messenger – sibylline,
has arrived:
He wants my trust,
He enters my eye,
He drinks my tear,
He carries me into your mind.
i see great walls,
and things forbidden,
i feel your presence.
i ask him to find your body,
he can only reveal your truth,
locked within his fatal touch.
the sting is your sting,
the pain is your pain
the agony of our love –
i will bury him
in the garden
with the others,
and wait, patiently
for another
for another,
for another.

run 2 you

run into ether,
unfettered contour of mind –
love’s ethereal axis sphere,
our sanctuary – warm fertile embrace,
quivering flame the pulse of heart
where thought beams the radiance of light
melting dark worlds that fade
to pitch and ghost of time

run through datura and shadow of lilith,
and vapor faces that impersonate to haunt
run blindly if must be your trust
with open arms,
for with open arms, i cry diamonds –
sacred tears of angel light

adorn the clinging silks of desire
gentle moonbath of honey glaze
reach my love, reach
i beg this mortal’s hand to touch
taste this kiss, deeply, truly
realize the presence of healing grace –
love’s nude perfection sings

open your eyes,
your vision portrays you adorned and bare
open your eyes,
a crown of violets as halo upon hair
open your eyes,
to the birth of your immaculate reflection
open your eyes,
behold the ether bride

midnight fog on Peachtree

half heart

deathless sleep of angel’s womb,

i fly as fetus

searching every drifting dream

for a pulse unborn –

the cry

of the half heart.

~

(heaven’s tears caress,

a shower of diamond light,

burning away ugliness, melting years,

bathing every lie.)

 

i peal jacquards

of colour and time

to enter the vault;

truth to unlock all locks

and open the gate

where we began, before

~

before i was torn –

ripped suffering suckle,

immortal fruit’s desire, taken

down

to walk as they walk,

smearing history

with animal’s blood

upon canvas and mind

 

line upon line;

killing for poetry,

praying for art,

sacrificing the purest of the pure –

more than i knew,

more than i cried for

~

and,

dying, because

they said so.

they said i must.

they, how be it,

said too much

 

but reaching, always

for the fading hand,

i descend open-eyed

beneath the darkness

of wave and sea.

~

sweet gentle lamb

where is my inspiration?

my altars, i swear, were of gold!

did i not slaughter you painlessly

under the shadow of law,

dissecting and eating the guts

of every letter?

putrid nourishment,

sustaining every plague

of mortal shame.

~

yet, anon, and ever and,

i breathe

the breath of her flame,

burning the cake of karma,

undressing the negligee,

and serpentine lace of lies

revealing the child,

and i remember and know

as i am known –

the reflection of her face

resting upon feathers.

~

she dreams my life

enduring the timeless quiver

of the half heart,

moaning under the lash

of each passionate stroke –

fatal caress of wincing flesh,

the final offering of time,

kneeling before the pendulum,

she follows my death

through countless cocoons,

back

into her womb,

once again.

~

once again,

i lie between shadow and light

tracing the jagged edge,

seared pitiful heart – half-self,

torn, never separated,

realizing with every cycle and refrain

earth’s delicate axis never to sustain.

such bliss a dangerous thing;

would end the fragile construct mortality,

shattering gold and hinging law –

falling as delirious playing cards

in slow motion

never to fly.

~

never!

never to be written,

never to be recorded,

not by them,

not by the gatekeeper.

she waits the wait of zen,

beyond rust and stumbling saints;

a silhouette glowing

upon wavering prison drapes,

like an old film framing electric mist.

her dream is my vision

and tears are the food

of everlasting flight.

let it rain.

i eat every diamond.

~

dearest nightingale,

touch me with your feathers,

as torn hearts live to mend.

 

we walk not as they,

with footprints of fossil in clay

sinking deeper with every step,

but higher, above the begging tempest

upon water of light

through the mirrored gate,

we awaken from supposition

unto our eternal reflection,

one heart

one mind

one love.

you

my eyes search

for honesty

as i undress your

lanky girlish quiver

sprawled upon a perfect canvas

revealing the contour of thin porcelain lies

that you allow to crumble

into shell and shard.

you rest unearthed

no longer afraid of yourself,

who you might become in my eyes –

and deeply through locked pearls

we search the diamond

not to change

never to destroy

but to paint

you

as you are.

by fire

you by fire

will singe my soul

tis inevitable, unless

i let you go

in the lunchroom

i saw you
in the distance,
years ago,
you were dark,
seemingly –
colour and poise,
and i was afraid
in my youth
maybe it was me
that was dark –
clumsy awkward fear…
maybe it was just
the wavering fluorescent force field
between us –
and you
standing upon the moon
so alone
so far from everything known,
unapproachable,
yet close
in darkness
and essence

as for she and i

she gave me a tribe,
babies that will live forever,
wandering the desert for love.
as for she and i,
she will fly with butterflies
to lavender fields
wishing they were violets,
and i, the lost moth
will drown
in quiet pools of dark rain.

bomber girl

faceless shadow

shroud of virginity,

only you know who you are

and your hidden dream –

secret cartwheel

upside down,

skin making love to the wind.

demure bride of war

kissing the rug of prayer, wallowing

in the ghost of charlemagne

exalted in your father’s army.

adorned corset of nails –

your heart beats

your body ticks

your purpose bleeds

through

the tourniquet of day.

did you hear the dulcimer,

is he ready to receive,

will he receive

those you sacrifice?

entwined

bodies entwined

locked undulation

dangling honeysuckle

upon unknown fring

falling gracefully for miles

through pearly moths

and flames of flower light

till impact halts

a delicate floating feather

and separates love

momentarily

as we look up

at the bed

laughing